


feel the sun inside

by imperiousheiress



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It, Force Bond (Star Wars), Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, I swear it ends happy, M/M, Mind Control, Order 66 Didn't Happen (Star Wars), Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Suicide Attempt, almost, because of mind control, but first we make it Hurt, fuck that guy, palpatine does die though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29866356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperiousheiress/pseuds/imperiousheiress
Summary: With all the noise and violence of a bolt of lightning, the pieces click into place.The Chancellor,Fives had said. The Chancellor had known about the inhibitor– no, thecontrol chips.Dooku had told him. On Geonosis all those years ago. Obi-Wan’s blood roars through his ears.The Republic under the control of a Sith Lord,he’d said.Hundreds of Senators.And who else has access to so many people, to so much influence, so much power. A person who hadknownabout the chips.Obi-Wan’s stomach drops out from under him. He's going to be sick.Or: Fives lives. Obi-Wan puts the pieces together. Cody makes a sacrifice.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 35
Kudos: 289





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> endless thanks to [DiminishingReturns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiminishingReturns/) for continuing to add gasoline to this fire and occasionally lending me the braincell (love you SO much. i'm so happy to be in star wars hell with you ♥)

Fives comes to screaming.

Cody gets the call while he's in Obi-Wan's quarters, sipping a cup of caf that will soon grow cold under an absence of attention after being quickly forgotten in favor of this. Obi-Wan watches over his shoulder as the image of Master Vokara Che, the Temple’s Chief Jedi Healer, appears in his handheld holoprojector to explain Fives’s current condition with short, sharp words. The Council had come to an agreement a month ago, when they’d first secreted him away to the Temple after he’d been pronounced dead at the scene in that warehouse on the lower levels. The collective decision had been that, upon waking from his long healing trance, the first people that should be brought to Fives’s bedside were Anakin and Rex. People he would trust. Will hopefully still trust, even after everything that had happened.

Except, as Obi-Wan is well aware, Anakin and Rex, along with a select number of the 501st, are off-world. On some kind of mission that’s apparently so confidential that even Obi-Wan hasn’t been told anything about it – not even so much as who sent them out in the first place. The kind of mission that means no outside contact except in the most dire case of emergency.

So – Vokara explains as Obi-Wan watches the conversation unfold over Cody’s shoulder – Fives had insisted on getting in touch with Cody instead. And, apparently, he’s not taking no for an answer.

Cody remains stoic the entire time, every bit the Marshall Commander as he absorbs Master Che’s every word with rapt attention. Still, Obi-Wan sees the way he stiffens, shoulders going so subtly rigid that the change is nearly unnoticeable. Or it might be, for someone who was less well-accustomed to looking for it. It’s clear to Obi-Wan, though, that learning about Fives’s request to speak to  _ him _ has thrown him. 

With a last assurance that he’ll be there as soon as he can, unflinching even in the face of Che’s unyielding violet stare, Cody ends the transmission. As soon as the Jedi Healer’s holo image disappears, his head falls into his hands. Obi-Wan’s hand finds his shoulder before he’s even aware he’s reaching forward.

Cody looks up at him, offering a tight-lipped smile and a wordless nod. Obi-Wan thinks he understands, at least partly. When they’d sat down in his quarters in the temple with a plate of fruit and a pile of datapads between them, this is by  _ far  _ the last thing he would have expected to find interrupting them. He himself isn’t exactly unaffected by learning about Fives’s sudden change in condition. And it’s not even  _ his  _ brother’s life on the line. 

“I’d like to come with you,” he says, voice steady and quiet in the stillness of the air around them. For Cody’s sake, yes – this isn’t something he’d ever want his Commander to do alone – but also to sate his own need for answers. For the last month, since– since Tup, there’s been something itching in the back of his mind nonstop. A sense that, somehow, something about the whole situation was  _ wrong.  _ Is  _ still  _ wrong. But no amount of meditation has led him to any further insight. Whatever the answers may be, they’re clouded in the Force in a way things have never been for him.

“There’s no one else I’d rather have with me, sir,” Cody says, and Obi-Wan hadn’t realized just how tightly his chest had knotted itself together until the tension fades with the words. 

There’s a lighter retort on the tip of his tongue, one that’s closer to his usual attempts at diversion, but he can feel the corners of his eyes going soft even before he says, “Thank you, Cody.”

Cody only nods his response, standing abruptly to grab his helmet from where he’d left it in its usual spot atop Obi-Wan’s dresser. Obi-Wan watches as he checks his blaster, wondering how much of his calculating gaze is conscious versus habit. He’s not expecting a trip to the Halls of Healing to end in bloodshed, and he can’t imagine Cody really is either. But then again, he doesn’t know  _ what _ to expect.

His fingers drift to brush over the lightsaber at his belt, and he follows Cody out the door.

“He’s– It didn’t sound good,” Cody says with a casual tone that does nothing to cover the anxiety shifting around him in the Force.

“Master Che is not known to sugarcoat things,” Obi-Wan says, latching onto his signature and pulsing small waves of comfort back towards his Commander. “Which does mean that, in many cases, the things she says sound worse than they are.” He prays this is one of those cases. “What’s important is that he’s awake.”

“I– Yes, sir,” Cody says softly. There’s a moment of hesitation, but then he swallows and whatever his next words might have been disappear with it. It’s silent between them the rest of the way to the Halls of Healing. 

Stern-faced as always, Master Che leads them to the farthest corner of the chambers located off the Main Hall, into one of the single-person rooms there. The adjacency to the main operating theater, along with the extra privacy, means it is one of the ones that tends to be reserved for only the most severely injured – the kind of space within the Halls that Obi-Wan is, unfortunately, all-too-familiar with. No one outside of the Council and their Chief Healer even knows that Fives is here. No one except, well– Obi-Wan’s eyes flicker to where Cody stands at attention where he’s been stopped just in front of the door to Fives’s room. With his helmet tucked under his arm and his eyes trained strictly forward, his gaze remains trained straight ahead, unflinching in the face of Master Che – a not insignificant feat.

“Is it accurate of me to assume your lack of surprise at receiving my call means you require no further appraisal of the situation at hand?” Even as she addresses Cody, that piercing stare slants towards Obi-Wan, who does not possess nearly the same strength of will as his Commander. He offers her a sheepish smile, one hand coming up to rub at his beard.

“No, sir,” Cody responds promptly, thankfully drawing her attention once more.

“Very good,” she says. “I will choose to ignore the blatant breach of confidentiality on account of the fact that the knowledge you do possess saves a great deal of my valuable time. Now. The Council has tasked you with finding out just what knowledge trooper Fives claims to have following the… _ incident _ on Kamino. That said. If I deem your  _ conversation  _ to be causing my patient any undue stress, I will not hesitate to remove you from my medical facility immediately. Are we clear?”

“Yes, sir.” Cody shows no sign of discomfort beyond blinking slightly faster than usual, even as Obi-Wan can feel the phantom sensation of sweat starting to prickle against the back of his neck.

Without a word, Vokara turns around and opens the door behind her. The only indication she gives that they are meant to follow is one raised hand that falls again nearly as quickly as it waves them forward. Obi-Wan hesitates for only a moment before slipping through the door. Once inside, he hovers just beyond it, uncertain of the role he is meant to play in this scenario. If he is even welcome at all.

Fives is laid out in a hover-stretcher in the center of the room. Cody had been right when he’d said that Master Che’s report didn’t sound good. Now that Obi-Wan sees him, he's not sure there’s anything she could have said differently to make it sound any better – Not, at least, without bending the truth to a significant degree. The blaster wound that Obi-Wan knows from the reports to be painted across the middle of Fives’s chest is covered by bandages, and there are no other visible wounds across his otherwise bare torso. But his complexion is ashen, and he looks… small. Shrunken, in a way. He’s far from being all skin and bones, but his edges are softer than they once were, than they should be. Cody being in the same room only makes the stark  _ wrongness  _ of his current state that much more apparent.

“Trooper Fives,” Master Che says, voice soft in a way that Obi-Wan has never heard her afford anyone, least of all himself. His stomach rolls with it.

Fives turns his head to one side, but only barely. His jaw clenches with the effort. Having secured his attention, Che nods and shifts silently to the side as Cody steps forward to take her place. The moment Fives’s eyes land on him, they begin to fill with tears.

_ “Ori’vod,”  _ he says, and there’s a crack in his voice. He raises a shaking hand, reaching out over the edge of the stretcher, and Cody surges forward to take it immediately.

_ “Udesii, vod.”  _ His voice is almost too low for Obi-Wan to hear.  _ “Ni olar. Gar morut’yc.”  _

Fives's head turns the rest of the way to rest against the hard surface of the stretcher beneath him, falling like he doesn’t have the energy to keep it up. That’s when his eyes – alert, thankfully, in a way that his body isn’t – find Obi-Wan where he stands against the far wall and go wide. Fives jerks forward even as the machine monitoring his heartbeat starts to beep faster. He’s only kept in place by Cody’s quick reflexes, which are aided by a quiet curse under his breath and a firm hand in the center of Fives’s chest.

“General,” Fives says, wet eyes blinking faster. His voice is stiffer, raspier, than it was before. “I–I’m sorry, I–”

Obi-Wan is already stepping forward, raising a placating hand. “At ease, Fives. I apologize if I’ve caught you off-guard; I only wanted to see for myself how you were doing,” he says with a smile, pressing as much soothing energy into his voice and through the Force as he can. “I understand, however, if you would prefer to speak with Cody alone. Just say the word and I’ll wait outside.”

Fives opens his mouth but closes it again quickly, hesitant. His attention flickers to Cody and holds there for a long moment. And then, jaw seeming to unclench, he turns eyes that appear to be quickly growing heavier back to Obi-Wan.

“No,” he says, laying his head back again so that he stares straight on towards the ceiling. “That’s alright, sir. I’m… glad you’re here.”

As Cody shuffles a pair of plastoid chairs around the room, Master Che slips away, towards the door. Obi-Wan catches her eye as she passes; she gives no indication that she sees him watching except for the smallest dip of her head in his direction. And then she’s out of the room, although Obi-Wan can’t imagine she’s gone far. He can feel Cody’s questioning gaze against the back of his skull, and when he turns to meet it, he only shakes his head. Cody, thankfully, doesn’t press him further. Only nudges one of the chairs closer to him before turning his full focus back on Fives. Like magnets, their hands drift together once more, seemingly without either of them really thinking about it.

“I’m here,  _ vod,”  _ Cody murmurs in the new quiet of the room. “I’m listening. Tell me everything.” 

And he does. 

He starts at the beginning. With Nala Se’s seeming desperation to insist that whatever had been affecting Tup was a virus, nothing more than a _virus,_ and then – with the help of the droid AZI – his discovery of the so-called tumor that had turned out to be an organic chip implanted in every clone from birth. A chip the Kaminoan had passed off as an aggression inhibitor, claiming its harmlessness. Its benefits, even. He talks of his conviction that it was the chip that had caused Tup’s meltdown and his suspicions that the Kaminoans _knew_ and were covering something up. Something darker, more sinister. A suspicion that had only seemingly been confirmed when Nala Se had drugged him.

And then there’s the Chancellor. 

He continues beyond that – to his attempted escape, pursued through the lower levels by Fox and his men. His own brothers. Obi-Wan listens without interruption, watching the agonizing emotion warring across Fives’s features from over Cody’s shoulder, but part of his mind lingers, swirling dizzyingly, over the  _ Chancellor. _

The Chancellor who, if Fives is to be believed, lured him into a room alone so he could reveal the  _ real  _ purpose of the chips. A purpose so singularly sinister that it might be laughable were it not so  _ horrifying.  _

Obi-Wan manages, by some miracle, to retain his mask of calm even as that itching spot of _wrong_ inside him stretches slowly but violently into a yawning chasm of dread. He doesn’t know what it all means. There’s something missing, still – some piece of the puzzle that feels like it should be close enough to touch, but that he can’t quite hold onto. Something deep and _dark,_ darker than anything he’s ever felt, that keeps slipping just out of reach every time he tries to close his fingers around it. 

Fives is shaking when he finishes. His eyes are swollen with the tears that continue to slip through them seemingly without end; it’s a stark contrast to the gauntness of the rest of his face. He is a raw whirlwind in the Force, stripped down to his very core, and Obi-Wan wants desperately to help, to reach out and soothe the hurt, but it’s all he can do to keep his own walls intact against the onslaught of Fives’s emotion. There’s no telling whether his knuckles or Cody’s are whiter where their hands remain locked together like either one will disintegrate if they let go.

“You– You have to believe me,” he says, voice ragged where it drags out of his throat. Beside him, the heartbeat monitor’s pace spikes.  _ “Getdet’ye. Ori’vod–”  _

Eyes blown wide, he starts trying to sit up again, stumbling over a rapid-fire string of pleas. And then Cody’s hand is on his chest while he mutters calming words and Obi-Wan is pushing to a stand. He doesn’t even get half off the chair before Vokara is already there, and he didn’t so much as hear the door open, but if Cody hadn’t already stepped out of her way, she undoubtedly would have moved him herself. Her voice is a whip, snapping,  _ “Out!”  _ as she makes herself a physical barrier between them and Fives, whose eyes are starting to roll back behind his fluttering eyelashes. Cody lurches forward, but Obi-Wan is faster, wrapping a hand around his Commander’s arm, just above his elbow, and tugging gently. He tenses, a hard wall slamming down over his expression and his emotions in the Force at the same time. But he glances back to meet Obi-Wan’s eyes and lets himself be guided out of the room.

The comparative silence of the waiting area outside the Main Hall is a physical weight across Obi-Wan’s shoulders. Cody sits on the very far end of the bench they share, leaving space enough for at least one other being between them. His helmet rests on the floor between his feet and he’s bent forward nearly in two, elbows braced on his knees and hands locked together behind his head. His breathing has long since steadied into a familiar rhythm that Obi-Wan clings to, letting it center his focus as he works to sort through his racing thoughts. _What are the facts?_ a voice in his mind asks, and it sounds suspiciously like his Commander’s.

He’s just about to open his mouth when a voice that most certainly is  _ not _ his Commander’s beats him to the punch. 

“Master Kenobi.” Master Che’s distinct Twi’leki accent comes from behind him and he turns, only starting a little bit as he twists in his seat. “I–” 

“How is he?” Cody asks, cutting her off mere moments before Obi-Wan is able to himself. 

Che’s attention slides past him to land on Cody instead. The line of her mouth pulls taut, but she answers the question anyway, with a tone that betrays no further annoyance. “Exhausted. This soon after waking, Trooper Fives’s energy levels are near non-existent.” The corners of her sharp eyes soften, ever so slightly. “However, he is fine. His condition is perfectly stable, and some rest will do him wonders.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t even have to be looking to feel the way Cody relaxes next to him. “Thank you, Master Che,” he says, offering her his sweetest smile. 

“Yes, well,” she says with a snort. “As I was attempting to say, Master Kenobi, I believe the Council is awaiting your report. I trust you have learned enough to provide adequate answers to their inquiries?”

She holds his gaze steady for a long moment. Outwardly, her expression changes very little, but Obi-Wan can feel the uncertainty that lingers beneath her surface, a partial reflection of his own. In that instant, he knows: whatever he's feeling, so is she, at least to some extent. There's an oppressive air of darkness pressing down around the edges of all of this. And it scares her too. 

"Yes, I think it's best if I call the Council to convene as soon as possible," he says, already mentally steps ahead, planning how best to carefully broach this subject. Where to start so that his fellow Masters won’t immediately shut him down before he gets a chance to start convincing them of what, deep down, he knows he’s already decided. “Thank you. For your assistance today, and for everything you’ve done.” 

“You have always been a flatterer, Kenobi.” Vokara rolls her eyes and Obi-Wan is glad to see the way the corner of her mouth curls. “Now get out.”

“I can take a hint,” Obi-Wan says, already pushing to a stand. He turns to see Cody already standing as well, fingers wrapped tightly around the edge of his bucket where it hangs at his side. “Shall we?”

Cody nods at Vokara once – long and slow, dancing just on the edge of a bow – before gesturing for Obi-Wan to lead the way. 

“What did you think?” Obi-Wan asks after they turn into an otherwise deserted hall where sound won’t carry. Still, he keeps his voice low and catches himself walking ever-so-slightly closer, only straightening out when he feels his elbow knock against Cody’s armor. Not that he seems to notice. “About Fives’s story.” 

The hand that isn’t holding Cody’s helmet comes up to rub at the side of his neck as he shakes his head. His brow is furrowed over his forward-facing stare, eyes focused on some distant spot that may or may not really be there.

“Fives is– I believe he’s convinced that everything he told us is true.”

“Are you?” Obi-Wan prods, watching the tell-tale way Cody bites at his lower lip in the pause before he answers. 

“I– I don’t know, sir.” He shakes his head again, the tiniest motion back and forth. “If it were, that would mean– I don’t know what it would mean. That just one person or one group has been behind this whole war from the start? It’s– hard to believe. Hard to even  _ think about.  _ But on the other hand, if there is any truth to it. If– If the chips  _ can  _ make us–” He stops short, the catch of his breath nearly inaudible between them when his eyes flicker up to meet Obi-Wan’s before darting away again just as quickly. “It’s… not something I’d be willing to put to chance. Frankly, I’d rather be decommissioned.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Obi-Wan snaps immediately. “I would never let it.” 

Cody snorts next to him, and Obi-Wan turns his head, eyes already narrowing in a glare. But there’s the phantom curve of a smile playing across Cody’s lips, visible even as he ducks his head. His expression is undeniably soft, and Obi-Wan’s heart hammers between his ears, nearly drowning out Cody’s barely-there response of, “I know.” 

The sun through the tall windows behind him reflects in his eyes, turning them a molten gold, and Obi-Wan finds himself drifting closer again, helpless to resist the pull of Cody’s energy where it sits, a warm weight in its natural corner of his mind. There are words on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn’t know what they are or what they should be. Just that his hand is already lifting from his side, moving on its own to bridge the gap between them. 

“Cody, I–”

The sound of footsteps on the hard stone floor cuts sharp and loud into his thoughts. His gaze snaps forward as he finds himself shifting sideways to increase the space between Cody’s shoulder and his own. As Bant Eerin approaches, she looks up from the datapad cradled in her arm and offers him a bright grin and a short wave. Obi-Wan offers her a smile in return. She’s just gotten back from a campaign on Florrum and suddenly he can see, all too clearly in his mind’s eye, her with her back turned and Herc – her loyal Captain, the second in command she had  _ just  _ been heaping endless praise upon over twin cups of tea the last time Obi-Wan had been able to catch her in a free moment – raising his blaster between her shoulderblades, unable to stop himself, while she stands defenseless, perfectly unaware– 

Bant passes by, continuing on her way in the opposite direction, already moving webbed fingers across the screen of her datapad once more as she returns her full attention to it.

They turn a corner into the next hall and Obi-Wan takes a deep breath, releasing the snaking oppression that’s starting to coil around his heart into the Force on an exhale. That’s right. They have no time to waste.

“Commander,” he says as the turbolift that will take them to the Council Chambers comes into view. “Is it safe to assume that I can trust you to have my back during this meeting with the High Council?”

Cody’s steps stutter for the shortest moment and there is a clear note of surprise in his voice when he says, “You sure you want  _ me _ backing you up in there, sir?”

“Of course.” It’s Obi-Wan’s turn to blink at him, brow furrowing. He hadn’t even thought to imagine a scenario in which he would set out to do this without Cody at his side. “You know exactly as much as I do, at this point. And besides, I am quite certain the ideas that I intend to present won’t be the most  _ popular.  _ I–” He stops, jaw snapping abruptly shut. His hand comes up to rub at his beard.

It’s possible that the members of the Council aren’t the only ones that will disagree with him. He casts a sideways glance at where Cody watches him with casual intent, giving Obi-Wan an assessing once-over. Cody is nothing if not a pragmatist. And, even if Obi-Wan  _ can,  _ somehow, convince the Council to go along with what he has to suggest, Cody could lose so much more from their agreement than he himself. 

Still, he thinks as stands a little straighter, keeping his voice as casual as he can muster, Cody deserves to know.

“I plan to suggest rather strongly that the Jedi Order – and the  _ Vode  _ with them – formally secede from the Republic.”

Cody comes to a hard stop mere feet from the door to the turbolift. Obi-Wan stops walking as well, turning at a much more leisurely pace to meet his Commander face to face. Cody’s brow is a hard line and the expression on his face is entirely inscrutable. Even prodding gently at the piece of his mind where he can usually feel Cody’s signature yields no answers. Obi-Wan holds his stance of careful neutrality, but he can feel his heartbeat spike against his temples.

_ “Sir–” _

Cody doesn’t get any farther than that.

In that moment, the screech of his communicator’s beeping is the single most wretched sound Obi-Wan has ever heard. He can’t stop his wince as he offers Cody an apologetic – not smile, he doesn’t quite have one of those in him right now – as he deliberately averts his eyes and turns, mumbling out a request for his Commander’s pardon.

He hopes the tension in his jaw isn’t audible through the commlink when he picks up the call. 

“Anakin. This had better be–”

“Obi-Wan!” Seemingly oblivious to the pressure building quickly between his old Master’s eyes, Anakin sounds downright _ chipper,  _ a grin in his voice. “Good, you’re not busy.” 

_ “Actually, _ Anakin–”

“We just landed back on Coruscant, and I’ve been informed you’re still here. Thought you might be down for grabbing a bite at Dex’s? I’m  _ famished. _ Just got to check in with the Chancellor first, and then–”

“Wait. Anakin. The  _ Chancellor?”  _ And suddenly, that dark spot of  _ wrong  _ is back, twisting a knife hard into Obi-Wan’s lungs. “Pray tell, what does the Chancellor have to do with–”

“Oh, right.” Anakin’s tone goes familiarly sheepish. “Did I forget to mention? I, uh– We might have been gone on a super secret mission I was assigned personally by the Chancellor? Listen, as soon as I give my report, I promise I’ll tell you all about it. Over a hot meal.”

“A secret mission for–?  _ Anakin.” _ Obi-Wan’s breath stops. 

With all the noise and violence of a bolt of lightning, the pieces click into place.  _ The Chancellor,  _ Fives had said. The Chancellor had known about the inhibitor– no, the  _ control  _ chips. The chips that exist in the heads of every soldier in the GAR, an army that – as Obi-Wan’s own journey to Oba Diah chasing the trail of a ghost had proved – Dooku had somehow had a hand in creating. If Fives is right, if what had happened with Tup is any proof, the chips are capable of turning each and every one of those soldiers against their Jedi Generals, likely at a moment’s notice.

If Dooku had put them there in the first place– If the entire army is a ticking time bomb– And if the  _ Chancellor  _ had  _ known _ about them– 

Dooku– Dooku had  _ told _ him. On Geonosis all those years ago. Obi-Wan’s blood roars through his ears.  _ The Republic under the control of a Sith Lord,  _ he’d said. _ Hundreds of Senators.  _ And who else has access to so many people, to so much influence, so much power. A person who had  _ known  _ about the chips.

Obi-Wan’s stomach drops out from under him. He’s going to be sick. 

Anakin is still talking, but the words are nothing more than another handful of notes breaking through the static hurricane ringing in the space behind his temples, quick and loud enough to shatter his skull. 

“Anakin, wait,” he manages, voice sounding far away to his own ears. “Listen to me. You can’t–” 

“Sorry, Master, I’m kind of in a hurry. I don’t want to keep him waiting.”

_ “Anakin!”  _ But it’s too late. The call has cut off, and Anakin is gone. 

That chasm of darkness inside him rips open into a yawning pit. He feels like he’s teetering on the edge of it, looking down and down into endless  _ black –  _ so deep he might suffocate in it just from standing too close – and at the bottom of it all, in the very center, is Palpatine. Just where he’s always been. Except that’s not it, either, is it? The name  _ Sidious  _ rings in his ears, an ominous echo. A word that has always had a feeling attached to it, has always had a presence, and now, from out of what had once seemed like an impenetrable gray haze, has a face.

And there next to it, it’s all too easy to see it. The master and the apprentice; a mechanical right hand– 

“–Sir?” Cody’s voice sounds much farther away than Obi-Wan knows him to be. He squints against the soft light that creeps in to fill his vision with streaks of painted gold.  _ “Obi-Wan.”  _

The sound of his name from Cody’s lips lights a spark in an exceptionally warm corner of his mind, one that feels safe, and he gravitates towards it as the black pit falls away. In its place, he finds himself blinking into the very concerned face of his Commander. Cody is opening his mouth, most likely to voice at least one of the thousand questions reflected in his eyes, but Obi-Wan shakes his head, already raising the communicator on his wrist. He starts walking.

“Obi-Wan. I was wondering when we’d hear from you about–”

“Mace.” He knows how much the Master of the Order hates being interrupted, but he can’t wait, this can’t wait, there’s no time. “I need you to send backup to the Chancellor’s office immediately. I don’t have time to explain. The Chancellor– He’s a Sith Lord.”

For a long moment, there is silence on the other end. Maybe, he thinks, heartbeat spiking, Mace won’t believe him. But then: “Are you certain?”

“Yes. Entirely,” Obi-Wan responds without hesitation. “I believe he’s the one we’ve been looking for. The Master.”

“Alright. I’ll send a small force to meet you as soon as I can gather one,” Mace says. “And Obi-Wan. Don’t do anything rash before we get there.”

“Understood.” Obi-Wan begins to lower his wrist, already halfway to cutting off the comlink when he stops.  _ “Wait.  _ Under no circumstances should you utilize the forces of the Coruscant Guard. Contact Commander Fox right away; have him remove his men from the Senate Office Building entirely and issue a coms blackout until further notice. They may all be compromised without knowing it.”

Fortunately, Mace doesn’t press him for any further explanation. He would be justified in doing so, Obi-Wan knows; this isn’t an accusation that he can afford to take lightly. But all he says is, “Understood. May the Force be with you.”

Obi-Wan walks faster, half-jogging through the halls of the Temple as he reaches for the bond he shares with his former Padawan. He can hardly remember a time when it wasn’t there, that tether that holds the two of them to one another – At first as Master and Apprentice and now as equals. As brothers. He’s always been able to tug at it and find the familiar weight of it against his mind exactly where he expects it to be. That familiarity is exactly what has stopped him from taking the time to give the bond his full attention for  _ far  _ too long. As he does so now, brushing across it with a delicate touch and a close eye, his stomach drops out from under him. 

It’s just as he’d feared. As he traces along the tether that connects them through the Force, he can feel the places where it starts to go thin. It’s subtle, so much so that he might never have seen it at all if he hadn’t been looking so deliberately, but it’s there. His bond with Anakin is fraying. And there’s something more, too. Something that scares him worse, even, than the rapidly-thinning fibers that have already begun to snap loose. Because the farther he reaches, the more he can feel it creeping just there, at the edges of Anakin’s half of the bond. Just one more thing he had missed. One he hadn’t been looking for. 

The darkness caresses the outer edges of Anakin’s energy, reaching out like the flickering tongue of a bonfire. Searching to consume him.

The turbolift to the Temple Hangar appears at the end of the hallway right in front of him, and Obi-Wan rushes inside. He turns to key in the correct number but stops, abruptly, when he finds himself face to face with the second figure who has just followed him through the closing doors.

“Cody?”

“I sent word ahead, sir. A gunship will be ready to deploy by the time we reach the hangar.” He’s since put his helmet back on and stands in front of Obi-Wan like they’re prepping to jump out of an infantry transport instead of a turbolift. 

_ “We?”  _ Obi-Wan says, face scrunching up. “No, I– Thank you, Cody, for getting me a ship, but you'll not be coming with me.”

“All due respect, sir,” Cody says, firmly facing the turbolift doors as they make their ascent. “Don't be an idiot.”

Obi-Wan raises his eyebrows but forces back the sigh that's on the tip of his tongue. “This isn’t up for  _ debate, _ Commander–”

“I heard you,” Cody huffs sharply, still staring strictly ahead. Not for the first time, Obi-Wan wishes he could throw that damnable bucket away altogether. Cody has always been far too good at shielding his emotions through the Force; he was a natural at it even before Obi-Wan started to teach him. “You said the Chancellor is a _dar’jetii?_ If that’s true, then like hell I’m letting you walk in there without backup.”

Obi-Wan knows better than to pretend he has any intention of actually waiting until Mace shows up with his requested reinforcements. Cody knows him far too well to fall for that. And he deserves better. 

“What of the control chips?” He says instead, shaking his head. “We still know nothing about how they’re activated. If you become compromised–”

“Then I trust you to do what needs to be done.” 

The click of a blaster cocking has Obi-Wan’s head whipping to the side, stopping the retort that had been sharpening on his tongue. Cody has his holdout pistol in front of him, grip loose but careful around it in a way that Obi-Wan has seen countless times before and after battles, when he’s watched his Commander inspect his weapons with an intensity bordering on frightening. Seemingly satisfied, Cody nods before easily flipping the blaster in one hand so the grip is held out towards Obi-Wan in offering. It’s all he can do not to physically recoil, not that there’s anywhere for him to go in the tightness of the lift.

He raises both hands between them. “I don’t–”

“Take it,” Cody insists, before his protests can get any farther. “It’s set to stun.” 

_ “Cody,” _ Obi-Wan breathes.

“You’re going to need it one way or another. The only way you’ll keep me off that ship is by using it on me.”

There is a hint of a smirk in his voice and Obi-Wan  _ tsks,  _ shaking his head at his Commander. His intensely loyal, frighteningly competent, unbreakably  _ stubborn  _ Commander, who had seemingly inherited all the bull-headedness of his genetic donor and then some. Obi-Wan wraps a hand around the offered blaster, fingers just barely brushing Cody’s as the weapon’s awkward weight transfers to him. 

And then the turbolift stops and, with a woosh, the doors give way to reveal the wide-open space of the Temple hangar stretching out before them, filled with too many eyes and ears, and there is no more time to speak.

Cody is the first one through the doors, taking point as he marches forward, straight on towards a  _ vod _ dressed in grays holding a datapad. Obi-Wan is right behind him, watching as he straightens into a salute at Cody’s approach and then relaxes in response to a placating wave. And then there are a few quick words exchanged, and fingers dancing across the datapad, and they’re being led across to a gunship at the far end of the hangar, where the deck officer barks an order up at the pilot who has already brought the ship to life by the time they step on board.

They’re well in the air, the glittering streets of Coruscant and its constant march of moving bodies passing in a blur beneath them, before either of them speaks. It’s Cody who breaks the silence, voice just loud enough to be audible over the whir of the engine and the rush of air outside.

“Where did you go?” he asks. “Back at the Temple.”

He doesn’t have to ask to know what Cody is referring to. The hand that isn’t holding onto the handle above him for balance scrubs down his face and he sighs.

“It’s Anakin. The bond I share with him through the Force is–” He squeezes his eyes shut tight, reaching out. Now that he’s seen them, the fraying edges stare back at him like an open wound and it seems impossible that he could have ever missed this. “It’s been damaged. Even now, I can feel the darkness surrounding him. If I’d just paid more attention–”

He exhales slowly, breath shuddering out of him as it catches wetly in his throat. But Cody, ever intuitive, has already filled in the gaps all on his own.

“That’s why you can’t wait.”

“Yes.” A nod. “I have this terrible feeling that if I don’t act now, I won’t get another chance to. That I’ll lose him.”

The movement of the ship around them makes him sway, knocking his shoulder gently against Cody’s. He doesn’t move to right himself and Cody doesn’t pull away. His voice is steady and strong next to Obi-Wan’s ear when he says, “Then let’s go get him.”

  
  


They don’t pass a single person as they make their way through the halls towards the Chancellor’s office. Obi-Wan can’t recall a time the Senate Office Building has ever felt so empty. The absence of the usual quietly hovering figures in red-streaked white plastoid is eerie, but it’s a good sign. Mace was seemingly able to follow through with his promise to divert the Coruscant Guard. If his request for a coms blackout has also been honored and the Chancellor has no way of contacting Commander Fox or his men then, hopefully, he won’t be able to use their command chips against them. Which means they have him cut off here. In the best case scenario, any other backup he could call for is located much farther away – hopefully off-world – and they won’t have to contend with the task of trying to disable any clones without hurting them.

All that is assuming, of course, that the Chancellor can’t hit a button or flip a switch that will instantly rid the entire two plus million-man force of the GAR of their free will and turn them against their allies and friends. 

Obi-Wan stops just past where the hallway opens up. There, just against the opposite wall, sits the door to the Chancellor’s office. The space around them is just as vacant as the rest of the building had been. He doesn’t have to look to know Cody has stopped with him, falling into that space just over his right shoulder that he has always seemed to fill so naturally. Just as he fills a small but certainly not insignificant corner of Obi-Wan’s consciousness. A miniature sun, steady and bright. And mirrored on the other side of his mind, next to an empty space where he could once feel his own Master, is Anakin. Keeping close, still, to the warmth that Cody exudes, the solid weight of him, Obi-Wan reaches out with a tentative grasp to tug at his bond with Anakin. 

Sure enough, he can feel him just there, on the other side of the door and balanced on the razor’s edge of a great divide. Within reach and yet so,  _ so  _ far away. Obi-Wan doesn’t know if he’ll be fast enough to pull him back. Doesn’t know if he’s capable of doing so in the first place. He only knows that he has to try. That the consequences of not trying are unfathomable.

“On my signal.” He exhales and risks one final look at Cody. “Stay  _ behind  _ me.” 

And then he throws open the door.

As soon as he puts a crack in it, the dam shatters. It’s a flood of cold darkness, _deep black cloying_ like he’s never felt before. It’s nothing like the reactor shaft on Naboo or the cavern on Geonosis. It’s black lightning, crackling through his skull and beneath his skin, a shock through his lungs that makes it hard to breathe; his every hair is standing on end, and he’s _drowning_ in it.

The scene in front of him is something straight out of a nightmare. Worse, even, because his mind could never conjure anything like the expression of pure agony that twists gruesomely across Anakin’s face where he stands, clutching at his head with both hands. The Chancellor looms over him, except he’s not the Chancellor anymore. His features have twisted, somehow; the smile that stretches across his face is a bastardized version of that paternal expression – a  _ farce,  _ Obi-Wan knows now – that he has so often donned just the moment things start to look like they won’t go his way. 

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan calls, reaching a hand towards him. He’s stopped dead in his tracks. The oppressive pressure of the dark energy exuding from the Chancellor, the Sith Lord,  _ Darth Sidious,  _ is a physical wall pressing back against him, holding him at bay. Even so, Anakin looks up with red-rimmed eyes, and is that a touch of yellow creeping in around his pupils? Obi-Wan can’t focus on that now. Has to swallow down the despair that threatens to creep up out of his chest and suffocate him. “Don’t listen to him.” 

Sickly ochre eyes turn slowly, deliberately on him, and a chill spikes down his spine.  _ “Look,  _ Anakin,” says a voice that is Palpatine’s but also not. “I told you that he would come. He’s here to stop you.”

_ Stop him?  _ He can’t fathom what that could possibly mean, but he knows it’s nothing good. 

_ “N-No.”  _ Anakin’s voice rips out of him in a growl, forced through clenched teeth. Obi-Wan takes a step forward but stops again when Anakin’s arm snaps out to one side and he roars, “Stay  _ back!”  _

“Anakin, listen to me.” Obi-Wan holds his arms out to his sides in a placating gesture, keeping a visible distance between his hands and the belt that currently holds both his lightsaber and the borrowed blaster. “You can’t trust him.” 

“I don’t know  _ who  _ I can trust!” Anakin shouts, eyes starting to glisten.  _ “You’ve _ never trusted  _ me!” _

Anakin might as well have reached across the room and punched him in the gut. Obi-Wan shakes his head. The corner of his eyes sting and, for a moment, his mouth moves without words. 

“Anakin, I– I’m  _ so  _ sorry,” he says, shoulders sagging even as he brings one hand up to scrub at the side of his face. “I’m sorry I ever made you feel that way. Sorry I’ve  _ failed you.  _ There are so many things, so many  _ ways  _ that I–” His voice creaks in his own ears, and his next exhale is a wet shudder. “But  _ please,  _ Anakin. Whatever he’s told you, it’s all lies. I– He’s a  _ sith.”  _

“How do I know  _ you’re _ not lying to me?” Anakin’s voice is hoarse and raw as the first tear slips down his cheek. “You’re always keeping things from me! You  _ and  _ the Council–”

“Whatever you want to know,” Obi-Wan interrupts. His hand falls to his side in a clenched fist and he barks a single laugh – a harsh, empty sound. “I’ll tell you. From now on, no more secrets. I just need you to trust me now.” 

Anakin hesitates. For the first time, the hands that are buried in his frazzled hair loosen their grip and start to lower, slowly, towards his lap. Whatever he sees when he looks at Obi-Wan must convince him, or at least start to, that his promise is sincere. That blaze of anger in his eyes lowers to a simmer as his expression morphs into something else. Something closer to the face of boy on Tatooine who had never thought he could have a future outside of sand and slavery.

“But, I can’t– I have to–  _ Padmé.”  _ Anakin’s eyes stop shifting, finally, and lock on Obi-Wan’s. There is a plea in his voice. “She’s going to– I can’t  _ lose  _ her, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan’s thoughts are a jumble; he can already feel his emotions creeping in dangerously around the edges of his mind, looking to twist the knots further and deeper. Still when he breathes –  _ in, out –  _ when he finds the steadying rope the Force offers up and wraps it in his grip – around and around until the fog on the glass of his mind gives way to light – there are so few answers. How  _ long  _ has Palpatine, has Sidious, been filling Anakin’s head with lies? The poisonous taint of them eats at the fringes of their bond even now. 

It has the exact same feeling as the rancid, syrupy lilt of Sidious’s voice where it grates against the edges of his consciousness when he speaks. “You don’t  _ have  _ to, Anakin,” he promises, the words serpent-smooth even through a rattling chest. “You can save her.  _ Only  _ you can save her. You know what you must do.”

“Can’t you see he’s using you, Anakin?” Obi-Wan snaps, nose wrinkling against the wave of decay that pulses through the Force and starts to sink into his lungs. “Let me help you. Help her. I  _ want  _ to help, Anakin, but you have to  _ trust me.”  _

Obi-Wan takes a step forward and finds it’s easier than he’d expected. That black wall holding him back has warped and receded. He can still feel it around him, pressing in like gelatin – spongy, now, and giving in a way that it wasn’t before.  _ Yes.  _ He breathes through the pressure against his chest, deep and slow.  _ There is no chaos, there is harmony.  _

He reaches out a hand.

Anakin rises to one knee, but before he can so much as take a breath, a snarl from Sidious in front of him draws their attention towards the Sith Lord a mere moment before his arm snaps forward in a far too familiar gesture. 

_ “No!”  _ that wretched, scratching voice cries and Obi-Wan braces himself. But the sensation he was expecting, that sudden loss of breath, the burning of his lungs as he is lifted off his feet, never comes. Alarm spiking through the center of his chest, he redirects his attention to Anakin. But no. While his eyes are wide, his chest still rises and falls, loud and labored in the quiet space.

Behind him, there is a harsh inhale through a vocoder. Obi-Wan whirls around, Cody’s name already a gasp on his lips.

His Commander hovers just above the exorbitantly plush carpet, so close that the boot he kicks out when he tries fruitlessly to gain a foothold scrapes against the floor. Obi-Wan jerks forward, but he has no chance of grabbing onto Cody before his body is wrenched out of his reach, swaying like a ragdoll’s. 

“Commander.” The smile that’s audible in Sidious’s voice turns Obi-Wan’s blood to ice. “Come to me.” 

Cody drops. He trips forward to land on one knee and only then just barely seems to keep from tipping the rest of the way to the floor. He pushes himself up, unsteady on his feet, and Obi-Wan’s stomach lurches. He’s never seen Cody unbalanced except for when he’s been quite literally bleeding out. Even from here, he can feel the tendrils of darkness that claw at his Commander. That corner of his mind that is all Cody is fading with alarming speed. 

“Cody!” he calls out. His Commander’s stiff gait never falters. Obi-Wan can only watch, one arm still forward in a hopeless attempt to reach him, as Cody crosses the room until he’s standing directly in front of Sidious. 

_ “Good,”  _ the Sith Lord says in a sickly rattling purr. He waves a hand calmly and Cody turns slowly so he’s facing Obi-Wan. He raises both hands to undo the seal on his helmet. And then pauses. It’s the briefest flicker of hesitation, but it’s there, twisting Sidious’s scowl deeper, and Obi-Wan takes his opportunity. He finds Cody in the Force, his normally bright, warm pulse that has dimmed under the suffocation of Sidious’s influence, and grabs on with both hands. For a moment, he feels the brush of a presence in his own mind in return. Like Cody is squeezing back.

And then, Cody in the room in front of him finishes removing his helmet, dropping it carelessly to the ground next to him where it thuds against the carpet, bouncing as it rolls. But Obi-Wan doesn’t see it. He can’t look anywhere that isn’t at Cody. Cody, whose every expression Obi-Wan has collected and compiled in a photo album that rests in a corner of his heart, never to be examined too closely. In the course of nearly three years, he’s seen it all. The intense set of determination that Obi-Wan knows means he won’t be deterred by anything less than death, that flash of anger that he’s always so quick to reign in, the smug amusement that he only lets seep through when it’s just the two of them, alone. 

And now? Nothing.

Cody’s eyes – normally so brilliant, beautiful, gold – are cold. Vacant. His face is a blank slate that settles uncomfortably in the pit of Obi-Wan’s stomach.

“Pay close attention, Master Jedi,” Sidious snarls. He stands just over Cody’s right shoulder, half-hidden behind him – a coward’s ploy – head tilting to one side ominously. He tuts with false pity. “How many lives have you not been able to save? I wonder which will be the one to break you.”

He snaps his fingers and, as Cody’s blaster raises, Obi-Wan is already igniting his lightsaber in front of him, ready to deflect the shots safely into the nearby walls. But the blaster fire he’s expecting doesn’t come. Because the weapon in Cody’s hand isn’t pointed towards  _ him.  _

A strangled noise wrenches itself from Obi-Wan’s rapidly closing throat against his will as the chill that shoots from his spine down through his toes freezes him in place. Cody continues to stare, unblinking, even with the metal barrel of his blaster digging directly into the skin just beneath the hinge of his jaw. Obi-Wan’s mouth opens, but no words come.

“Your reputation precedes you, Master Jedi,” Sidious continues, voice warping into heavy velvet in his ears. He can feel the dark edges of it in the space between every word, but his shields are cracking and he can’t seem to pull them tight enough to keep it out. “You have inspired quite the loyal streak in your men. Your compassion for them is…  _ admirable. _ And yet. Your  _ dear  _ Commander is different.”

Sidious’s hand raises and wrinkling, gnarled fingers curl tight around Cody’s left shoulder. Obi-Wan jerks violently forward.

_ “Don’t,”  _ he croaks, lip curling as he grits his teeth.

Sidious’s twisted grin only spreads. “I feel your passion, your anger. They give you strength,” he says, brittle voice crackling with barely-contained glee.  _ “Use  _ them. You know he will not see the end of this war. None of them will, your toy soldiers. But you want to save them, do you not? All you have to do is let go. Surrender to me.  _ Join us.” _

Finally the hand releases Cody’s shoulder, moving instead to gesture to the side where Anakin still sits, kneeling up on one knee now. His former Padawan’s wide, wild eyes shift back and forth between Jedi and Sith, his conflict nearly as loud on his face as it is in the Force. 

_ “Never.”  _

Obi-Wan shifts to stand up straighter, the blade of his lightsaber retracting at his side with a  _ whoosh.  _ Cody’s hand trembles around the grip of his blaster and, as Obi-Wan watches, a single tear slips from the corner of his eye to slide down his cheek. Obi-Wan’s fist clenches at his side, his every muscle screaming to reach out. Breathing through too-tight lungs, he clings to the threads of the Living Force that reaches out towards him with steadying hands.  _ There is no passion, there is serenity. _ At the same time, he tightens his grip on Cody’s mind – the part of it, at least, that he is able to still reach – cradling it like a precious thing as he pours  _ everything  _ through their fragile connection. 

“You will not break me,” he says, voice hoarse but steady. His emotions pulse, warm and bright, through the space between them and he hopes,  _ prays,  _ that Cody understands.  _ All of the things he’d never said– _ “I am stronger than you know. And I am not alone; you may cut me down, but still whatever plans you have  _ will  _ fail.”

Chin held high, never once letting his eyes leave Cody, he drops his lightsaber.

It clatters against the floor, but the sound is barely audible over Sidious’s vicious snarl. The air in the room fills to bursting, crackling with the power of the dark as it slams down over them like a curtain, sucking the oxygen from his lungs.

_ “Fire!”  _ Sidious commands.

Obi-Wan barely hears the sound of the blaster shot over his own shout. He’s already raised his hand and Cody’s pistol with it, but his finger is still loose against the trigger and he doesn’t fire. He’s  _ too late. _

Cody falls.

Obi-Wan knows he’s speaking, knows there’s an endless stream of words falling from his mouth, but his ears are ringing with the roar of his own heartbeat and he can hear nothing else. He all but trips over his own feet as he rushes forward, falling to his knees to scramble for the limp heap of Cody’s body where it sprawls against the carpet.

Carefully, like he’s handling glass, he pulls Cody into his arms, cradling his face with one hand, thumb gently brushing tears from wet cheeks. Wide, wild eyes blink up at him as his Commander’s gasp for air breaks through the buzzing in Obi-Wan’s skull. Cody shudders violently against him. Obi-Wan’s hold tightens.

“General,” Cody rasps. His hand wraps around Obi-Wan’s wrist hard enough to bruise – _Obi-Wan never wants him to let go –_ and he shifts to lean into the hand against his cheek. He squeezes his eyes shut tight before opening them again, blinking quickly like he’s trying to keep his focus. “The _dar’jetii–”_

Obi-Wan glances up to where Sidious’s crumpled form lays on the floor no farther than a few feet away, limbs twisted at awkward angles. There is still a hint of smoke rising from the fresh blaster hole in the center of his forehead.

“Won’t be a problem anymore,” Obi-Wan assures, attention returning immediately to Cody, whose face scrunches up.

_ “Osik,”  _ he breathes. And then, “Well.  _ Oya.”  _

A laugh bubbles up out of Obi-Wan’s chest, and somewhere in the middle of his throat it becomes a sob. Cody’s hold on his wrist disappears and Obi-Wan wants to protest, but then there is the gentle brush of fingers against his cheek, wiping at the wetness of tears he hadn’t realized he’d let fall. He catches Cody’s hand in his own, lips brushing with the barest pressure against the backs of his knuckles.

Cody smiles up at him, a warm, fragile thing. 

And then he’s lurching forward in Obi-Wan’s arms, convulsing with a sharp hiss that morphs into a groan. His hand wrenches out of Obi-Wan’s grip to grab at the center of his chest as he gasps in a rattling lungful of air.

_ “Cody.”  _

Obi-Wan’s breath catches hard in his throat and his head snaps up. The first thing his eyes land on is Anakin –  _ oh Force, Anakin, he’d almost forgotten –  _ and he swallows down a surge of guilt for not checking on his former Padwan as well. After all, Anakin is still on the floor – now curled in on himself with his head in both hands between his knees, shoulders shaking – and he doesn’t seem to be aware of what’s happening around him, even when Obi-Wan tries to call to him.  _ Force.  _ He presses down the panic rising up through his chest and focuses back on Cody.

_ “K’oyacyi,”  _ he murmurs as another violent shudder wracks the body in his arms.  _ “Gedet’ye.”  _

He leans in close, holding Cody steady as he presses a gentle kiss to the center of his forehead, murmuring soothing words against his skin. And that’s how Mace Windu, along with half the Jedi Council, find him a moment later when they stride through the door. Obi-Wan whips around to find Mace surveying the room, surprise flickering across his usually stoic expression as he surveys the scene in front of him. Slowly, his hand falls away from the lightsaber at his side and he turns his focus on Obi-Wan, raising an eyebrow. 

Before he can ask whichever one of the likely thousands of questions running through his mind that he’s decided should have the highest priority, Obi-Wan opens his mouth to interrupt the Master of the Order for the second time in a single day.

“Call a medic.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (The comfort ambulance cometh.)

When Obi-Wan goes to open his door for whoever had knocked so softly less than a minute ago, he’s expecting to see Plo with another new box of tea and the best ration bars he could find. While he’d never say so, he’s been coming by to check that Obi-Wan has had something, anything, to eat since the sun last came up. Or Anakin, escorted by R2-D2, stopping by for the few minutes he can sneak away. He’s been allowed short walks beyond the Halls of Healing, where he’s staying while the Council continues to discuss his future with the Order. Predictably, his visits to Obi-Wan’s rooms involve a rather loose interpretation of the rules of his confinement; not that anyone who’s noticed has willingly pointed that out. Or maybe Mace, who would no doubt pass him a datapad or two, only speaking beyond a greeting to let him know what he’s been handed –  _ Master Ti asked for your opinion on this.  _ Or,  _ The Senate just got out of a meeting. Nothing’s been decided yet, but it… could have gone worse. –  _ all with that strangely unsettling quiet tone and soft crease to his brow.

He’s  _ not  _ expecting Rex, who stands there with his helmet tucked under his arm, looking like he’s carrying the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders. He’s not shifting from foot to foot physically, but that’s exactly how his expression makes him look. 

“Rex?” Obi-Wan says, voice scratchy from disuse. And then he can’t think of anything else to say, standing there in the doorway to his own chambers across from his former Padawan’s Captain and his Commander’s closest brother. 

“He’s awake,” Rex says with a sigh. He sounds even wearier than he looks. “And he’s asking about you.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t have to ask who he’s talking about. He should say something in response, but his words are tangling themselves into a knot in his throat and all that comes out is a strangled sound. Rex doesn’t seem to be expecting anything more, though, because he’s already stepping aside. And then, just as quickly, he’s falling easily into step just behind Obi-Wan before he’s even fully realized he’s started moving.

“How long?” Obi-Wan asks without so much as a glance sideways as his feet carry him automatically along a path that has become increasingly familiar over the last week.

“Not long,” Rex answers immediately. “Just over an hour, maybe? Doctors had to give him the once-over before they let me talk to him.”

“Were you with him? When he–?” This time Obi-Wan does look over, and he finds Rex already nodding his affirmative. The knot in his chest eases, even if only slightly, as he sighs. “Good.”

Rex hesitates, but not for long. Before Obi-Wan can even begin prompting him to say what’s on his mind, his brow settles into a decisive line and he starts to speak.  _ Like General, like Captain,  _ Obi-Wan thinks with a surge of bittersweet fondness.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he says. “That you– I know you wanted to be there.” 

Obi-Wan turns to angle his face subtly away from Rex as he shakes his head, a wry smile on his lips. He doesn’t even try to deny it. But–

“I’m glad someone was. And I think it might be for the best that it wasn’t me,” he murmurs. He can tell without looking that Rex wants to protest, but he doesn’t say anything, a fact for which Obi-Wan is grateful. 

They make the rest of the trip to the Halls of Healing in companionable silence. Obi-Wan hardly notices the numerous looks thrown their way, the way people shift automatically out of the way of his purposeful stride. By the time Vokara had dismissed him – or perhaps more accurately,  _ kicked him out  _ – the morning after the Chancellor’s death, it seemed as though the entire Republic was already aware of what had happened. 

Cody’s private room is located on the upper level of the Halls of Healing, above the Main Hall; it’s one of the larger suites usually reserved for patients for whom extensive stays are predicted. Master Che has assured him multiple times that, since he hadn’t sustained any physical injuries, she doesn’t expect Cody’s visit to extend past the end of the week, at the very most. And the length of that prediction was only to ensure he would have  _ plenty  _ of time to rest and let his mind heal. 

Instead, she’d told him, he had been put up here for the added security, and for his own privacy – although she had claimed the latter while levelling a pointed look at Obi-Wan that he has been trying hard not to think too much about since. There’s a reason, after all, for the old claim that the Temple walls whisper secrets. Although of course, the walls usually have  _ plenty  _ of help from the Jedi who inhabit them.

Obi-Wan has stood in this same space, just in front of the door, countless times in the last week. In fact, he’s quite certain he’s spent more time in the room beyond than in his own quarters. Still, he hesitates. The lagging hours since Fives first woke have been a consistent blur, filled with a seemingly endless slog of  _ waiting.  _ Waiting to hear from the Council, the Senate, the front lines. And most importantly, waiting for Cody to wake up.

He hadn’t thought much about what would happen after that.

The light squeeze of a hand around his shoulder draws him out of his thoughts. He turns away from the door to find Rex stepping forward, eyebrows raised in a silent question. It’s uncanny how much that expression reminds him of Anakin. Gratefully, Obi-Wan nods, shifting to the side to allow Rex to step up and take his place in front of the door. With none of the same, sudden uncertainty that flutters through Obi-Wan’s veins, Rex raises a hand and raps the back of his knuckles against durasteel. He doesn’t wait for an answer before tapping quick fingers against the keypad without even looking. 

The door slides open and Obi-Wan takes a deep breath before following him into the room.

Cody doesn’t look up from where he’s sitting, cross-legged, atop his soft cream-colored bed. A pastel teal blanket pools over his lap, and he’s leaning forward over the datapad that’s balanced in his lap, which currently seems to be holding his full attention. His eyes flicker across whatever fills the screen, alert in a way that he hasn’t been for the last week but relaxed all the same. He pays no attention to the veritable garden that surrounds him.

There are even  _ more  _ plants than there were upon his last visit, Obi-Wan thinks, despite the fact that it’s been barely five hours since he was last here. He knows it had been late when Vokara had kicked him out, forcing him back to own bed under threat of sedation after he’d started to nod off. But still, he’s fairly certain that last night he’d been able to actually see out of the tall window that stretches across the length of the wall opposite him. Now? Not so much. 

A lot of the gifts are similar – flowers that share shapes but take on a widely-varying scope of colors, or little spiky-leaved succulents in tiny pots, or creeping vines – and readily found in just about any Coruscant greenhouse. Others, however, are more exotic, boasting vibrant colors or wild shapes or both as clear evidence that their senders had arranged for them specially. Many are decorated with ribbon or hung with notes written on colorful flimsi. Most are anonymous. They’ve been arriving since shortly after the airing of the first planet-wide broadcast proclaiming Cody a _hero._ Although he hadn’t been mentioned by name, of course, and neither had the details of his hospitalization. From what Obi-Wan understands, the Senate Office Building has actually been receiving the bulk of them; only a fraction of the total have been off-loaded to their intended recipient. And even if they _have_ all been extensively vetted by security it is still, frankly, excessive.

_ “Su cuy’gar, Kot’ika,”  _ Rex greets softly as soon as he steps inside, placing his helmet on what little space is available on the table just inside the door. He has to push a small pot carefully aside to make room. “I’m back.”

“Oh, thank the  _ Force,”  _ Cody huffs lightly. “I thought you might be that Mon Cala  _ jetii  _ bringing even  _ more  _ karking flowers that–” And then he looks up, breath catching in a sharp inhale when his eyes lock with Obi-Wan’s.

He blinks, staring owlishly for just a fraction of a moment before he’s straightening up, all but dropping the datapad in his lap. He looks half like he’s about to try to stand at attention, but before he can do that or anything else, Obi-Wan clears his throat.

“Hello there,” he says, tone falling short of light-hearted by a parsec and instead landing in a place that sounds dangerously strained, strangled by emotion. So he tries again. He’s relieved to find he gets a little closer, the corner of his mouth twitching up when he says, “So, how is the Republic’s new favorite hero?” 

Despite the teasing edge to his voice, Cody’s lips pull into a tight frown and he ducks his head, averting his eyes as a barely-there flush creeps into the tips of his ears. Obi-Wan falters.

“I’m not,” Cody says. “A hero. That’s– I’m sorry.” He swallows and drags a hand down his face with a grimace. And then, like an afterthought, he adds, “General.” 

“I’m going to leave you two alone,” Rex says from just next to him. 

Obi-Wan just barely stops himself from reacting physically to the sound of his voice. It’s been all of a minute and a half and he had already almost forgotten Rex was there. Guiltily, he turns to face him, an apology already halfway through his throat. But Rex just looks amused and only grows even more so when Cody’s newly sharpened gaze snaps over to him.

“Rex–” he starts, a low warning in his voice. But his brother pays him no mind. 

“I’ll see you soon, Cody,” he says.  _ “K’oyacyi, ori’vod.”  _

Cody huffs, but the edges of his expression soften subtly and his grumbled response is unmistakably fond. Rex acknowledges Obi-Wan with a nod as he turns, and then the door is whooshing closed behind him and it’s just him and Cody, alone. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” Obi-Wan says, taking the first leap to fill the silence before it has a chance to close in on them. He glances towards the chair beside the bed that is, by this point, intimately familiar with his backside, but ultimately decides against it. The last thing he wants is to make Cody feel crowded. “How  _ are _ you feeling?”

Cody sets his datapad aside entirely and shifts, turning sideways on the bed so he’s facing Obi-Wan. “Like I’ve been asleep for a karking week.” He rubs at the back of his neck with a sigh, glancing down at the datapad atop the sheets next to him. “And the galaxy decided to turn itself upside-down while I was taking a nap.” 

“You needed the rest,” Obi-Wan says, as if that’s any consolation. Cody has always been exceptionally adept at visualizing the big picture. And the pieces of the galactic machine set in motion by the discovery of the clones’ control chips and Palpatine’s deception have been substantial on every level. In the Senate, yes, but also in the Council, and the GAR, and far beyond the Republic. He has a lot of catching up to do. “What do you remember?” 

“I remember talking to Fives. And then I followed you to arrest the Chancellor, and I was–” Cody swallows, shaking his head. “Would you please just…?” He jerks his head in a familiar motion that Obi-Wan knows to mean  _ follow  _ and pats his hand a single time against the mattress next to him, teeth worrying his lower lip. A moment’s hesitation passes and then, hastily, he adds, “Only if you want.”

Rather than giving him an answer, Obi-Wan lets his legs carry him across the room where he sits on the bed, turning to face Cody with one leg hanging over the edge. He lets his hands fall into his lap, folding his fingers tightly together to keep them from wandering, no matter how much they want to.

“You were saying?” Obi-Wan prompts gently.

“What happened?” Cody turns to meet his eyes, and this time he doesn’t look away. His brow is set in a line of stubborn determination. The question takes Obi-Wan by surprise.

“Didn’t Master Che speak with you?” He frowns. It’s  _ highly  _ uncharacteristic of Vokara to let absolutely anything within the Halls of Healing escape her attention. Then again, he knows just how busy she has been in the last week. And he hadn’t passed her on his way in… “I had thought she would have filled you in on the details–”

“Sure she did,” Cody interrupts with a flippant wave. The intensity of his scrutinizing gaze never falters. “But she wasn’t  _ there. _ When I was– When the  _ dar’jetii  _ was in my head.”

“Cody,” Obi-Wan breathes, cursing his twitching fingers.

“I need to know. When I grabbed my blaster, I was aware of what I was doing. I just… couldn’t stop it.” Seemingly unconsciously, his right hand flexes in his lap, squeezing into a fist before he stretches his fingers. And then back and forth again. “But there was something– ” He stops, frown twisting deeper as his shoulders visibly tense. “I just–  _ How _ did I resist it? Please.”

Obi-Wan’s breath catches around where his heart suddenly sits in his throat. Suddenly Cody feels  _ far  _ too close and he sits up straighter to put some distance between them. It doesn’t ease the tightness in his lungs. It’s all he can do to keep himself from retreating to the other end of the room entirely. He squeezes his eyes shut for just a moment, making sure the walls he slams down around his own emotions are locked down tight. And then he sighs.

“I… have a theory about that.” 

Cody’s eyes are sharp against him. Focused. He waits. 

“I have told you before how it’s not unusual for some people, regardless of their connection with the Force, to possess a natural ability for shielding their minds,” Obi-Wan starts again. “And how you have always been one such person.”

“Which is why you first wanted me to join you in  _ meditating.” _ Cody says the last word with that same tone of voice he never fails to use when talking about anything even remotely related to the Force. A sort of resigned acceptance tinted with skepticism. “I remember.”

“That was part of the reason, yes. Mostly, I thought you were going to twist yourself into a knot if you didn’t find _some_ way to relax,” Obi-Wan teases.

Cody huffs a laugh, rolling his eyes. “You’re the last person who should be telling anyone else to relax.” He gives Obi-Wan a pointed once-over, reminding him suddenly of just how he must look right now, dressed in yesterday’s still-rumpled robes with his hair uncombed and his eyes underlined by dark half-crescents. He hadn’t even bothered to put proper shoes on, practically running here in nothing more than the fur-lined slippers that have hardly ever seen the floors outside his Temple rooms. 

“Yes, well–” Obi-Wan grimaces, feeling heat rise quickly in his cheekbones as he averts his eyes. “I suppose you may have a point.” 

Cody shifts ever-so-slightly closer, just enough for his knee to knock gently into Obi-Wan’s, drawing his attention once more. “That’s not all, though, is it,” he says. It’s not a question, but he tilts his head and his soft gaze is searching. “There’s more. To your theory.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan admits quietly, the word sticking in his throat. He’s known for a long time now that they’d need to have this conversation eventually. This was never going to stay hidden forever. But knowing, it turns out, doesn’t make  _ doing  _ any easier. He swallows hard. “I believe I have also told you about Force bonds?”

“That’s what you have with Skywalker,” Cody says hesitantly. 

“Yes, precisely,” Obi-Wan answers with a fleeting smile that he can’t maintain. “Many Force users form them with one another. And while it is…  _ highly unusual, _ to say the least, for such a bond to be created between an individual who is connected to the Force and another who is not, it’s not entirely unheard of.” 

Cody inhales sharply and Obi-Wan only just keeps from wincing at the way his eyes go wide for a flash of a moment before he schools his expression back to neutrality. 

“Then it  _ was  _ you,” he murmurs. He pauses, and Obi-Wan’s eyes follow the twisting of his fingers through the long sleeves of his soft gray shirt. “I wasn’t sure if I imagined it, but. I… felt you? In my mind. It was like– I don’t know how to explain it–” His brow furrows and he huffs a frustrated noise, a frown pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Cody, I am  _ so  _ sorry,” Obi-Wan says, voice straining as the words come all in a rush. “I should have told you. I– For what it’s worth, I never meant for this to happen; I’m not sure how it  _ did.  _ Not that that’s any excuse for essentially forcing you into a bond you couldn’t even consent to. But I’ll continue to work with you, teach you how to keep me out and–”

_ “No,”  _ Cody practically growls, and Obi-Wan finds him blinking down at his hands where they’re suddenly caught up in both of Cody’s. He hadn’t even realized how tightly he’d fisted them until the blood flow returns to his uncurled fingers. Cody’s voice goes soft when he says, “You  _ saved  _ me.” 

Obi-Wan can’t keep the bitter edge out of his chuckle. “I’m afraid I must disagree with you, my dear.”

“It’s not a matter of opinion.” For just a moment, Cody’s mouth twitches into a line of disapproval. But then he’s shaking his head with a quiet huff and detangling their fingers. Obi-Wan lets him go, immediately missing the warmth of his touch. There is a moment of silence, and then, “How does it work? The bond.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes squeeze shut and he pinches the bridge of his nose hard enough that he can feel it behind his eyes. “It’s a connection through the Force. I’m… not sure how to describe it precisely, but it is as though a part of my mind belongs to yours and vice versa. It’s not mind reading. I cannot perceive your conscious thoughts, but I do receive…  _ impressions,  _ of a sort, that reflect your feelings. Especially those that are particularly strong. While it’s been attempted, there is still no known way to sever the connection, but I–”

“No.” Cody’s voice is strained. “I’m not asking for that.”

The warmth of Cody’s hand against his cheek makes Obi-Wan startle. His hand falls back to his lap as he blinks his eyes open, only for his breath to catch in his throat. Cody is leaning close, brown eyes shining with intent.

“I meant, if I  _ want _ you in my head– If there’s something I want to show you, is there a way I can?”

“Yes.” Obi-Wan pauses, searching for the right words to explain something that has always felt so natural, so effortless to him. “Focus on what it is you wish to project – a feeling, a memory, whatever it may be – and open yourself up to it. Let the Force carry it.” He thinks of Cody’s hand against his cheek and flushes beneath it. “Ah. Skin contact can help.”

As Obi-Wan studies the curve of his lashes, Cody’s other hand comes up to mirror the first, cupping his face in both hands. “Ok,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “Good.” 

Cody closes his eyes, and Obi-Wan can't help it, finds himself sinking into his gravity, his own eyes falling shut as he leans in to bring their foreheads together. Cody’s touch is warm against his skin and no sooner has he exhaled softly, breath whispering across the hair of Obi-Wan’s beard, than his presence floods Obi-Wan’s mind.

The corner that usually contains him expands, breaking whatever confines had held it in place, and all at once, he is  _ everywhere.  _ It’s a rush of  _ warm safe sun fondness Cody,  _ and Obi-Wan can’t help his gasp. His hands fly forward, reaching – he’s not sure for what, just knows he needs to  _ hold on  _ lest he let this sweep him away. It’s the two of them back in the Chancellor’s office, except now he can feel himself in Cody’s addled mind, an achingly bright point that almost hurts to look at, an anchor. It’s a hundred, a thousand snapshots of moments between a war, on a battlefield, in front of a holotable, atop the sofa in his quarters. Countless instances of Cody seeing him without being seen, all the while cradling this soft, impossible thing in his chest that he’d never known what to do with. And Obi-Wan hadn’t  _ dared  _ hope– 

As soon as he can catch his breath, can steady his own whirlpool heart, he sends it all back in turn. Shared glances, smiles, cups of tea from his own point of view, plus his own collection of private treasures. The glittering gold of Cody that he would have to have been  _ blind  _ not to see, not to grab and hold on to for dear life. It’s a feedback loop of  _ hope fear connection light Us.  _

Obi-Wan wraps both hands tight around the thread between them, clinging to it like the last drop of water in a sheet of endless ice. And this time when he tugs, he  _ knows _ he can feel an answering pull.

He doesn’t realize there are tears in his eyes until he feels Cody’s thumbs against his skin, brushing them away with a gentle touch and gentler words murmured into the scant space between them. He opens his eyes to find Cody still there, still bright and oh-so-beautiful as his eyes flicker across Obi-Wan’s face over a barely-restrained smile.

The knock on the door cuts through the quiet like a vibroblade and Obi-Wan considers screaming. 

He doesn’t, because he has a sense of self-restraint honed by years of having Anakin as his Padawan, but he _does_ let an unhappy grumble slip through his defenses when he feels Cody pull away. His hands are just falling away from Obi-Wan when the door opens with a _whoosh_ that grates unusually against his ears.

“Good, you’re decent,” Master Che says with a flat tone and an eyebrow raised in their direction that’s completely devoid of feeling. “Commander, it’s time for your hourly check-in.”

“Vokara,” Obi-Wan huffs, mouth twisting into a frown as he clings with stubborn resolve to the fistful of Cody’s soft, gray shirt still held tightly in his right hand. 

Amusement spikes in the twinkling of her eyes, melding with something that looks a lot like reassurance when she says, “Don’t worry. This is the last one and then he’s all yours, Kenobi.”

Cody’s expression doesn’t change, but Obi-Wan can feel a distinct surge of embarrassment pulsing through where they’re both still disentangling themselves from their bond. And if he knows his own complexion at all, he’s not doing nearly as well at hiding the heat rising to his own cheeks. Still, his fingers release the hem of Cody’s shirt with no small amount of reluctance. He glances towards the door and then wonders a moment later if Vokara isn’t also giving him a once-over through the Force when she raises an eyebrow and speaks.

“You can stay,” she says without so much as sparing him a glance. She glides sideways with ease, making room in front of the bed as Cody turns and stands slowly. “That is, of course, if you remain out of my way. And if the Commander agrees to let you.”

“Yes,” Cody answers, too quickly. Catching himself, he clears his throat and adds, “Sir. Yes  _ sir.  _ Thank you.” If possible, his stance goes even more rigid. Still, he glances Obi-Wan’s way briefly, attention no doubt drawn by the surge of sudden affection Obi-Wan can’t keep contained.

“Stand down, soldier.” Vokara huffs out of the corner of her mouth that’s twisting involuntarily upwards. “I’ve told you; you may refer to me as simply Vokara. Having met Captain Rex, I am well aware that at least _some_ of you clones know how to relax.” Here, she glances to Obi-Wan. “The next time you drag one of the _Vode_ through my doors, they had better have a sense of humor.”

Obi-Wan doesn’t have to feel for him through the Force to be able to recognize how much the statement throws Cody off. He doesn’t know if it was her casual use of the clones’ preferred collective name in his native Mando’a or her general bedside manner – while stern and efficient, sometimes even outwardly prickly, Vokara has also always had a natural penchant for instilling her patients with a sense of calm. Obi-Wan has long suspected it has something to do with her steady presence both within the Force and without. She has always been a rock in a tumultuous ocean. Sturdy. Immovable. 

“How is Fives?” Cody asks after a long moment of silence. Without missing a single beat as she passes a medisensor slowly over the center of Cody’s back, Vokara levels a nod in Obi-Wan’s direction.

“Discharged two days after you were brought in,” he answers. “He’s back with the 501st.” 

Alarm that isn’t his own spikes in the corner of Obi-Wan’s mind as Cody twists to look at him. “He’s been returned to active duty?” he growls, an accusation in his tone.

“Please keep still, Commander,” Vokara intones flatly.

Cody stands up instantly straighter, but he doesn’t look away. Obi-Wan offers him a reassuring smile, nudging a sense of calm through their connection that he hopes will soothe his Commander’s fears. The answering hum of Cody’s signature reaching back is hesitant, but there is a near-instant surge of  _ trust  _ across the bond that makes Obi-Wan’s heart ache unspeakably. Something that the questioning twitch of Cody’s eyebrow indicates he has also picked up on. Ah. This new openness in their connection is going to take some getting used to.

Still, he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the universe. 

“No, not exactly,” Obi-Wan says. “I’m surprised Rex didn’t tell you. Clones are being recalled from the front lines all across the galaxy; entire legions are en route to Kamino, here, or a handful of other secure medical facilities in the outer systems in order to have their control chips removed. Since the 501st was already on Coruscant, and their general is, shall we say  _ out of commission…” _

Cody sucks in a hard breath. The news is dizzying and Obi-Wan puts a hand out on instinct, ready to steady him. Fortunately, the gesture isn’t necessary, but Obi-Wan’s hand stays where it is, even if Cody does still appear perfectly balanced from the outside.

“Rex told me his was gone, but…” Fleetingly, Cody’s fingers brush across his short-cropped hair, over the spot where, just a week ago, a surgical droid had sliced into his head to pull out his own chip. His voice lowers to a murmur. “It really was  _ all  _ of us?”

“The Senate passed the bill without a word of debate,” Obi-Wan says, gently tilting their heading. He can feel the way Cody starts to shutter himself off, drawn to the edge of that endless dark expanse that is  _ what if,  _ and he refuses to let them start down that path. Has treaded it himself enough times to know that it will do them no good. “Honestly, I’m fairly certain they set a record of some sort.”

Cody snorts quietly and that’s  _ precisely  _ the reaction Obi-Wan was hoping for. Even Vokara doesn’t say anything about his restlessness when she circles around to wave her medisensor in front of his chest.

“Unfortunately, drafting the Clone Rights Bill hasn’t been nearly as quick or simple a process.”

“So I’ve heard,” Cody says, blinking down at his hands. There is a sense of wonder behind the words. 

“It  _ will  _ pass. There is no doubt about that,” Obi-Wan reassures, cradling the tiny spark of Cody’s tentative hope close to his chest. It may be fragile still, but he refuses to let it burn out. “Master Vos informs me that current talk across the Republic is rather singularly focused. On the loyal clone soldier who single-handedly took down the traitorous Sith Lord Chancellor in order to protect his Jedi General. The entire galaxy knows what you did. And while the war isn’t officially over yet…”

He doesn’t finish that sentence. Doesn’t give voice to the  _ soon  _ that hangs heavy in the air. Somehow, putting it out in the world makes it seem that much easier for something to snatch it away. Still, Cody seems to understand.

“My point is, you –  _ all  _ of the  _ Vode –  _ have allies on both sides of this war. The delay in passing the Clone Rights Bill is a matter of deciding, in detail, what it should include. And there are  _ many  _ voices pushing for the very highest level of support for the  _ Vode.  _ Senators Amidala and Organa are currently heading the effort, which has the full support of the Jedi Council, myself included. Although we–” He pauses, ducking his head to hide the way his face colors. “ _ I  _ was hoping you would lend us your voice as well.”

Obi-Wan almost doesn’t hear Vokara asking Cody’s permission to place her hand on his head and finish her examination with a look at his mind through the Force. He certainly doesn’t hear the response. Because Cody’s feelings surge through their bond with a strength he was entirely unprepared for, and the sheer intensity bowls him over. 

He’d felt it before, of course. The underlying note humming beneath every moment, every feeling that Cody had deemed it so urgent to show him before Vokara’s inconveniently-timed arrival. He knows what it is. Is intimately familiar with the echo of it that has pulsed in his own soul since it was first stirred _years_ ago, at some undefined time between nights on the Negotiator and days hopping between planets, never knowing for sure which would be the last their feet would ever touch. And yet never has it felt so raw, so exposed as it does now, this shared feeling that he has, up until this moment, been so afraid to name for what it is. To call _love._

Vokara takes a step back, away from Cody, her openly surprised gaze flickering quickly over to Obi-Wan and then back again. It’s the closest to uncertain he’s ever seen her. He’s never been more grateful to her than when she firmly closes her mouth and turns around to grab a datapad.

“Am I able to trust you to return him to me this time tomorrow for a check-in?” she says, and it takes Obi-Wan a long moment to realize the question is directed at  _ him.  _ Apparently she doesn’t expect an actual answer, seeing as by the time he catches up, she’s already moving on. “You had better take the very best care of my patient. If you don’t, I  _ will _ know. And Obi-Wan? You would do well to remember that he is meant to be  _ resting.” _

She levels him with a look that makes him feel like the youngling he once was, caught red-handed while trying to smuggle an abandoned tooka into the Temple with Bant while Quinlan ran interference. He can’t help the bright flush that floods his face. 

“Yes, sir,” he mutters, an unintentional echo of Cody.

It’s seemingly enough for Vokara, who doesn’t answer as she finishes sorting her things away with an efficiency that speaks to her years of experience. It’s only as she’s on her way out that she pauses, just in front of the door, to give him one last look. The line of her brow is still stern, but her voice is soft when she says, “Sleep well tonight. Both of you.”

Then she’s gone, and it is just the two of them once again, alone with the weight of what Obi-Wan now knows hanging heavy in the air. He stares after Vokara long after the door has slid shut. Cody’s presence has returned to its small, bright corner of his mind – brighter now for how Cody’s deliberate brush against it has solidified the connection – and Obi-Wan doesn’t dare turn and see what is written on his face. 

Cody breaks the silence first.

“While I appreciate everything she’s done,” he says, “that  _ jetii  _ is  _ terrifying.”  _

Obi-Wan can’t help it. He laughs, the sound punching up out of him, and his grin automatically seeks out Cody, who is still standing just out of his reach. Their eyes meet, and in the span of a heartbeat, everything falls into place. This–  _ Them.  _ It’s simple. And he can’t imagine why he ever thought otherwise.

“What just happened?”

“Well. I  _ believe  _ you were just discharged. And into my care, it seems,” Obi-Wan muses. He pushes himself up off the bed and it's automatic, the way he drifts closer, falling into Cody's orbit until touching is nothing more than a matter of breathing out.  _ “Cody–”  _

“Obi-Wan.” The response is soft, and it pulses through his ribcage with a dull ache, just beneath where he can feel his heartbeat quicken at the sound of his name in Cody’s voice. It radiates a  _ warmth  _ that’s echoed in the back of his mind, and when Cody tilts his head, nose wrinkling with the force of his smile, Obi-Wan can taste sunshine in the back of his throat.

“I–” He knows thousands of words in a number of languages, and yet– 

“Yeah,” Cody says, nodding. He swallows, tongue flicking out between his lips. “I think I’m going to kiss you now.”

Obi-Wan sucks in a breath.

_ “Yes.”  _

When they come together, it’s clumsy. Overly eager, impeded by their stretching smiles and the awkward angle, with fumbling hands that knock together as they look for places to hold on. 

It’s perfect.

The only thing that could possibly be better is the second kiss. This time, it’s Obi-Wan who leans in first; it’s his turn to cradle Cody’s face in both hands, guiding their lips together over the sound of both of their heartbeats between his ears. Cody’s hands against the small of his back drag him closer and their bond  _ sings.  _

When Cody pulls away first – between them, he’s always had more self control, Obi-Wan muses – he chases after the touch, unwilling to let him go so easily. Their foreheads knock together lightly and Cody’s breath ghosts against his lips when he laughs, amusement dancing quietly through the part of his consciousness that is solidly  _ theirs.  _

“Would it be terribly forward of me, my dear, to invite you to spend the night with me? My quarters are far more accommodating than the Halls of Healing. Don’t tell Master Che I said that.”

Cody’s hands slide up around Obi-Wan’s neck and he steals another quick kiss before leaning back just far enough to properly meet his eyes. 

“I believe that was what the doctor ordered?” he says, golden eyes full of warmth and mirth and  _ life.  _ Obi-Wan has never felt luckier. He thanks the Force for every single thing in his life that has brought him here, to this moment. “Far be it from me to disobey a direct order from a Jedi.”

Obi-Wan knows all too well that their work is far from done; the last week has shown him that much, and then some. The biggest injustice of saving the galaxy is that, afterwards, you have to work even harder to start putting it back together. Even as the war that they’ve known for so long now draws to a close around them, there is a different kind of war that lies ahead. One dripped in diplomacy and red tape that is still just as likely to get him stabbed in the back. 

But that’s a set of problems for later. The road ahead is  _ years  _ long, and he’s in no rush to start down it now. For tonight, they can rest. They can take their time, in this moment of peace, to explore this thing between them that has grown so slowly for so long and finally allow it to bloom. Tomorrow they can start picking up the pieces. Tomorrow they can don their armor once again to face the next fight that lies ahead. And, fortunately, his back has never felt exposed with Cody beside him.

Later, atop the sheets in his Temple rooms, pressed into Cody's skin, Obi-Wan falls asleep dreaming of the future. And for the first time in a long,  _ long _ time, it doesn’t feel quite so out of reach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a LOT of headcanons about what the process of putting the Republic back together after this looks like. It's very possible that this fic will get a sequel sometime in the future, if that's of interest. 
> 
> (Thanks for coming. ♥)


End file.
